


Trust

by Maebmin



Category: Fables - Willingham, The Wolf Among Us
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-04 22:47:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3095189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maebmin/pseuds/Maebmin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>References Fables #22. Snow and Crane's working uncomfortable working relationship is examined, along with the lack of trust between Bigby and Snow. One-shot. Content warning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust

**Author's Note:**

> This little piece came out of some dialogue from Fables #22 that I wanted to explore.  
> Even those this is citing Fables, I'm labeling it as TWAU because I wrote this to be closer to TWAU's time period and style.  
> I wrote this pretty fast one night so I apologize for grammatical errors. I may have to go through and re-edit it!

The tiresome elevator door opened finally for Snow White. Now alone, she allowed herself a gaping yawn. This day had been a series of bad news; reports needed for the Mayor were overdue, a serious budget expense had been overlooked when the books were being tidied, and the business office coffeemaker broke, sputtering steam and a final gargle as Snow tried to beat it into submission today. The tasks weighed heavier on her than usual. It had been more than a week ago that Snow asked about the reports and labeled them neatly, laying them on Crane’s desk. The budget was _never_ inspected close enough. And Snow had been warning everyone about the coffeemaker for the past six months. She had come in early today to start sorting all this stuff out, which she had been doing more and more lately. Working alone gave her the time she needed to complete the things that never got done in the office.

The witches on the thirteenth floor seemed to be having a long day as well, going by how they had treated Snow in her brief visit minutes ago. She clutched the folder they had given her and let out a sigh. Her eyes settled on the dim numbers above the elevator as they changed with the floors that passed.

The door opened and Snow stepped out into the hallway before she turned the corner to the business office. With a start, she bumped into the sheriff. Her folder fell and the meticulously ordered pages flew out onto the carpet.

“Shit, sorry, Snow.” Bigby immediately bent down and shuffled the papers back sloppily into their place.

She could hardly contain her frustrated eye roll before she muttered, “It’s okay. Forget about it.”

He glanced at one sheet for a moment before he looked up at her from his knees. “What is this stuff? Looks complicated.” He stood up and handed the folder back to her waiting hands.

“Expense records. Thirteenth floor stuff…Our reports aren’t quite in order.”

The sheriff leaned back on his heels and gave a sympathetic grin, “I was wondering why Crane was in the office after hours.”

Snow folded her arms in front of her and shrugged, “His _incompetence_ is why I’m here late, nearly every night. He can handle it once in a blue moon.”

“Yeah, I just came from down there. I’m always thinking that he can’t hate me any more than he does…but I keep proving myself wrong.”

Snow allowed herself a smile and rested her back against the wall beside her. Her shoulders relaxed for the first time all day. “It’s okay, Bigby. Everyone knows you’re irreplaceable. Me on the other hand…”

He scoffed, reaching for his carton of cigarettes and pulling one free. He held it in the corner of his mouth and lit it as he continued, “Everyone knows _you’re_ the one running the show. I know I do. I’m no fool.”

“For someone _running the show_ , I sure don’t have a lot of _control_ over anything.”

He took a drag and smiled, “Well, you certainly have more of a handle on things than I do.”

“Oh, I don’t—”

The business office door squeaked opened down the hallway, causing the two to glance towards it. Crane, with his glasses nearly falling off the edge of his nose, stuck his head out and widened his eyes at the sight of Snow.

“Ms. _White_ , we need to _finish_ this.”

Snow nodded earnestly and Crane disappeared back behind the door, closing it with a clap. Bigby rose his eyebrows when he turned back to her, “Sorry about that, again.”

She glanced down the hallway with some hopelessness. Her voice was tinged in resignation, “Well, thanks for the distraction, anyways.”

The sheriff began his walk to the elevator once more. “I’ll be out for a while with some calls. Good luck tonight.” His voice was genuine and Snow took a small comfort in it.

She forced a smile before Bigby left and she took a deep breath. She laid her hand flat against the wallpaper and brushed the texture with her thumb as she gazed down the way. Work seemed so constant and, with a tight swallow, she realized that her conversation with Bigby had been the closest to _friendly banter_ that she had experienced in months. That was a frightening thought, and one that Snow ignored for now as she made her way back to the office.

* * *

 

It was hours later when Snow finally put down her pen and apprehensively considered that she was done for the night. Crane had been in and out this whole time, but he was now sitting at his desk, seemingly hard at work. She flicked through the papers in front of her with her lacquered nails and allowed herself some hope. Stapling them neatly, Snow smiled and stood up before walking over to Crane’s desk.

“If you would just go through and sign these off, I think we can call it a night.”

Crane glanced up at her, his eyes exhausted with work, a state that Snow felt little sympathy for. She placed it in front of him without waiting for a response and she eagerly returned to her desk to clean up.

“Are you sure this is it, Snow?”

“ _Quite_ sure.”  
  
Her nerves were beginning to tear as she watched him look over her work, but he seemed to give in, finally going through and signing each slip. Snow dropped her pens into her cup and closed her drawers in satisfaction. It was late, but she had some thoughts about going down to the diner and having some alone time that didn’t involve a glass of gin on her couch.

Snow reached for her coat but paused at the sight of Crane standing up. She began reflexively, “I’ll go in and find a new coffee maker tomorrow, it really shouldn’t take that long…” She walked forward to his desk, ready to defend her case as she glanced down at his brass name tag.

Instead, he flattened the front of his jacket down before he stepped closer. He seemed to be pensive, and the knot in Snow’s stomach grew.

_Oh god, don’t make me stay later, please._

“Snow, I really appreciate the extra work. I hope you know that.”

Her shoulders straightened in surprise. She was still annoyed, but she forced a genuine-enough smile. “Thank you. It’s no trouble.”

Without any warning, Crane reached out and rested his hand on her shoulder. Snow’s eyes widened and she took a small step back, her heel clicking on the floor. Her eyebrows furrowed as her mouth opened, but no words came out as confusion played on her face.

“I really do _appreciate_ it, Snow.”

“I…I don’t…”

His cold hand clasped onto hers with no warning and he pulled her forward roughly as he fixed his mouth to kiss her. The moment finally registered to Snow and she put her two hands up and _pushed_. Her palms landed on his shoulders and squarely stopped him, but he continued his frantic grapping as both their voices meshed with opposing pleas. She took another step back when she freed herself and turned for the door.

“I don’t know _what_ you’re doing but—”

He grabbed for her hand once more, spinning her around at her elbow. His voice grew louder and more desperate, “Snow, _wait_ , I didn’t _mean_ —”

She rotated herself as she elbowed him, hard, in the chest. “Don’t _ever_ do that again, _goddammit.”_

Crane took a few feeble steps backward before he landed against his desk with a thud. He shook his head, as if he was in denial of what had happened. Snow took no pause before she walked to the coat rack and pulled on her long winter coat in a huff. Many words crossed her mind but none would come out. Her cheeks were flushed in anger and she could feel her hair slipping out of its bun.

As she grabbed her purse from her chair, they both looked up to the sound of a key turning in the office’s door. The lock clicked over and the door opened, revealing the sheriff, clad in his trench coat and an apathetic frown. He looked up in surprise at the two standing in front of him, staring.

“…Uhh…Thought you were both gone. Why’s the door bolted if you’re still in here?”

Snow’s eyes narrowed before she pulled her purse upon her shoulder. “I was just _leaving_. I don’t know why the door was _locked_.”

The sheriff stood still, his face perplexed as he watched them both with a keen eye. “I need to get a file in here about someone. I hope that’s no trouble.”

Snow ignored Bigby and spared no glance at Crane as she stepped around him to get to the door. She held her breath as she pulled the door open impatiently and then closed it behind her with a slam. Her throat shook as she exhaled and she took a moment to steady herself. The empty hallway was a godsend and she relished the open space. Her momentary relief dissipated into more anxiety as she walked down the hallway, at first slowly and then faster until she met with the elevator once more. She felt an urge to just get away, _now_.She pushed the call button down and then again with more pressure.

The door opened, seemingly slower than usual, and Snow forced herself inside. She signaled for her floor and crossed her arms around her chest. The sound of footsteps alarmed her, and she glanced up from the floor.

“Snow, hey!”

It was the sheriff, of course. Snow watched him apathetically as he tried to reach the elevator in time, pushing his arm through at the last moment. Snow said nothing and impatiently signaled for her floor again. Her heartbeat struck so loudly within her that she briefly became self-conscious. But it’s not like he could hear that…right?

Bigby watched her carefully and glanced at the elevator’s destination. They shared a heavy silence for a moment before he inevitably began, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Her voice was strong and didn’t betray her feelings as her eyes shied away from his.

His eyes narrowed and she could feel his suspicion. “I feel like I just walked into something there.” He seemed to consider his choice of words before continuing, “You seem pissed.”

Snow looked up at him finally, meeting his eyes and weighing her options. She could continue to be frank with Mr. Wolf, and tell him everything. She imagined it for a moment, inviting him to her apartment for privacy. She would close the door and speak calmly, sharing her perpetual discomfort working here and now _this_. It would feel fantastic to share that with someone, finally. Snow could bet on that, but she couldn’t bet on his reaction. She could already see the anger in his yellow eyes, his impatient fury building in his shoulders. Bigby was rash and his rashness _spilled blood,_ infamously. She wasn’t going to place his and hers job security on his reaction to her honesty; she wasn’t about to give up her control like that. She gazed into his warm eyes, full of genuine concern, and her heart ached for a friend. He meant the best. But she couldn’t rely on that.

“Snow?”

“I just got some bad news. It’s been a long day.”

He watched her face as a puzzled look spread on his. They had reached Snow’s floor and the door opened. She took a small step forward, nodding her head dismissively at the sheriff.

The sheriff shoved his hands in his pockets. “You alright, then?”

“I’ll be okay. Thank you for the concern, Bigby.”

His voice was neutral and tired sounding, “Well…have a good night.”

She forced a smile and a small wave before the doors closed and the sheriff disappeared behind them. She could tell by the look on his face that he felt betrayed. He wanted a friend, probably as much as she did. He probably wanted her to tell him a story about Crane yelling at her and her nerves being fried, and for him to pat her shoulder and tell her that it would be alright. A brief connection between two lonely people. But as per usual, things were infinitely more complex. The two lonely people went home alone, again.

Snow took a deep breath and continued down the hall, reaching her door and digging her keys from her coat. Her hands shook slightly as she opened her door before she slammed it behind her. She took no time in opening her liquor cabinet. She poured a glass of straight gin and drank it straightaway. Her heels were kicked off and she turned a single lamp on next to her pristine, white-gold couch. She sat down, pulling her bun out and sighing. Her thoughts were empty, but her mind was aching with a dull pain. 

She watched the city lights shimmer outside of her window as she took a long drink.


End file.
